


fall away

by spectrenico



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6849328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrenico/pseuds/spectrenico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach was photogenic like gravity held my bones to the earth. It was one of those unquestionable realities it'd be idiotic to fight. It didn't mean anything.</p><p>And it definitely didn't make me gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fall away

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.

I said, “This is literally the most annoying week of the year.”

 

Zach swiped up one of my pens without asking and began to copy from my worksheet. “You're just saying that because you don't have anyone asking you,” a slight playful sneer entered his tone. I barely resisted the temptation to roll my eyes.

 

“Just because you've had a few girls offer to go with you--”

 

“Seven,” he said, slyly, a stupid grin on his face. His phone buzzed and he paused his mission of academic dishonesty for a minute to look at it. “Eight.”

 

I suddenly hated him even more than I usually did, which was saying a lot. “Whatever. Anyway, that doesn't make this whole Sadie’s thing any less stupid.”

 

He wasn't listening by now, though. He was chatting with whatever newest girl just threw herself at him, probably feeding her some crap he'd already told the other six about how hot and special he thought she was or something. I exhaled and slid down in my seat. What made him so charming that he could get asked eight times in one day and I couldn't? Sure he was incredibly toned, captain of the soccer team, had these piercing dark eyes--

 

“Take a picture,” Zach said. He didn't look up at me, but nevertheless I felt hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “It'll last longer.”

 

“Stupid,” I muttered under my breath. Mostly at myself.

-

So, okay, Zach was attractive. Zach had been attractive since he'd hit puberty. Maybe even before that, when I was still spindly and all bones.

 

Mouthwateringly, jaw droppingly starstruck beautiful. But this was just a fact. Zach was photogenic like gravity held my bones to the earth. It was one of those unquestionable realities it'd be idiotic to fight. It didn't mean anything.

 

And it definitely didn't make me gay.

-

_ “I don't care about those girls.” He stalked across my bedroom, pinned me against the dresser. “The attention is nice, but, I mean.” He pushed his face into my neck, breathed in deeply. “It’s not the same.” _

 

_ Zach slid his flat, rough palms up my shirt and  _ I jolted upright in bed.

 

“Anthony,” Katie said, impatiently. “Mom said to get up.”

 

I wrinkled my nose. I didn't correct her and point out it was her mom, not mine. “Please get out.”

 

She snorted and shut the door behind her.

 

The silence in her wake forced me to mentally confront my quickly fading dream. Well, it wasn't like you could control your dreams. I'd definitely read somewhere Freud hypothesized your subconscious pretty much thought up the most fucked up thing your conscious mind could imagine on purpose.

 

Not things you wanted.

-

Zach got back with his ex girlfriend June a few weeks before midterms, and I didn't see him until after winter break was over. He texted me about all his missing work from class and somehow elected me to bring it to him.

 

So there I was outside his house, a binder filled with assignments under my arm. I breathed in deeply, and his sister, Ashley, let me in. She had twin pigtails, glossy black like her brothers hair. Her eyes were different, though. Hazel. She brought me upstairs and barged right into her brothers room.

 

“Your nerd friend is here!”

 

“Get out, Ashley!” Suddenly a converse shoe went flying past her ear and hit the wall. She picked it up and threw it back, a strong pitchers throw, before she turned on her heels. Zach screamed from under the covers when the shoe collided with a violent thud.

 

Zach still fumed when I stepped into the room fully. It seemed to be partitioned into two sides, a curtain pulled across the left half, rendered it almost completely concealed. Zach’s half was shockingly clean.

 

“Why haven't you been in school?” I said.

 

“I've been sick. Mono.” He sniffed for emphasis. Then he had one of those stupid smirks. “You got the goods?”

 

I rolled my eyes. “That's right. Here.” I stepped forward a little and dropped the binder onto the bed.

 

He flipped through it as I started to step back. “Wait,” he said. “None of this makes any sense. You're going to have to stay and explain it to me.”

 

“You'll figure it out.”

 

“C’mon, brain boy.” He smiled at me then. It was one of those smiles that brightened up a whole room, left hearts broken in its path. His eyes smiled, too, squinted with lines at the edges.

 

I felt that prickle at the back of my neck again and sighed. Of course, I gave in.

-

I said something about polynomials when I became acutely aware of how close he was. He was leaned heavily over my shoulder, and even dared to brace a hand on my back. I stiffened and glanced over, flashed back to the dream, all the dreams I'd had since.

 

He said, “What?”

 

I couldn't meet his eyes. Wouldn't. “You're going to get me sick,” I said, weakly.

 

And he smiled again, but this time it was wide and full of teeth and it terrified me to my core. He'd leaned closer, and that hand slid further down my back. 

 

“I have mono,” he said.

 

Despite my fear, I finally tore my eyes away from the worksheets on the bed, and looked up at him. He was so close, I became aware of each shallow breath.

 

“I know,” I said, in that cruel tone I took in my voice to make people feel stupid. “It's a virus. Soooo?”

 

He leaned only closer. “Soooo,” he repeated, mocked me, brushed away my insult like a tornado tore up trees straight from the ground. Didn't even leave the roots. His voice had dropped to a low, gravelly, conspiratory whisper. “It's mono. The kissing disease. I couldn't get you sick, unless you were kissing me.”

 

I didn't even have room to breathe anymore. My heart pounded loudly in my chest and sirens went off and a voice in my head told me to get up run run run run away right now but my body remained motionless, his arm still behind me held me in place.

 

Everything inside of me ached and desperation took hold because his mouth was so close and it was wrong and weird but I wanted and maybe if I could just see what it was like--

 

There was a tense, mortifying, awful incredible moment where our mouths brushed and then--

 

Zach completely drew back, laughed like he'd just pulled the practical joke of the century. He laughed so hard his body folded in half at his abdomen. Humiliation flooded my veins and I flushed scarlet.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled, and shoved him as hard as I could. He fell backwards, tried to grab the wall, but slipped and fell off the bed onto the floor. I'm sure it hurt, I hoped it did, but he just paused for a moment to breathe before he laughed even harder.

 

I sat there, completely miserable.Why was I such a stupid idiot?

 

It took a moment, but be calmed down a little. “Hey, dude, it was just a joke. I can't believe you pushed me. Holy shit that hurt.” He reached for my leg, but I jumped off the bed and away from him like the touch burned. “What's your problem?”

 

He looked up at me with genuine confusion, which made me deliriously angry. I grabbed a crumpled worksheet in my hands and threw it at him. “I'm the one helping you, you colossal ass. But if you just want to mess around then have fun figuring it out yourself.” I didn't wait for him to respond and almost sprinted from the room.

 

Hurt choked in my lungs like cyanide gas. I hated him. More than anything, more than everything.

-

Zach cornered me by my locker on Monday. It was one of the only times I'd ever seen him genuinely uncomfortable.

 

“It was dumb. I don't know why I did what I did,” he said.

 

“It won't happen again,” he said.

 

I accepted, of course. I was surprised I'd held out long enough to ignore his texts all weekend.

-

What if I wanted it to happen again?

**Author's Note:**

> A oneshot but I have other stories in the same universe half written/planned.


End file.
